Destiny
by Magically-Enhanced
Summary: An unplanned pregnancy spins Kagome's life out of control. Her lover Inuyasha's divorce has been revoked. Now he must choose between Kagome and his wife Kikyo. Kagome, Inuyasha, and Kikyo find their lives linked by a dangerous and seductive pursuit.FULLSM
1. You're what?

Hey well new writer here! enjoy this story because I enjoyed it lol.

Discliamer: I don't own Inuyasha

_Kagome is notoriously known for the Ducati she rides down Japan's meanest streets. Everything is good until an unplanned pregnancy spins her life out of control. Her lover Inuyasha's divorce has been rovoked. now he must choose between Kagome and his manipulative wife Kikyo. Kagome, Inuyasha, and Kikyo find their lives inextricably linked by a dangerous and seductive pursuit-at an speed, at any cost._

**Chapter 1**

**You're what!?**

Inuyasha snapped. "I thought you were on the pill."

"Lower your voice."

"Kagome…you sure you're pregnant?"

"People can here."

We were outside in the night air at Starbucks.

Inuyasha asked, "Well, were you taking the pill?"

"No. I just stared at it and used it by osmosis."

"Oh, you got jokes."

"No, Inuyasha. I got pregnant."

We found a reason to stop talking when the leader of the biker girls rolled by doing a wheelie. The girl wasn't doing a regular catwalk. She had another one of her crew members sitting high up on the handlebars. Her bike was pimped out like she was a chrome slut. While the females up front were showboating, the last rider in the group was on her crotch rocket doing a stoppie-riding on just the front tire with her rear end high in the air. All of them held up traffic, spliced between cars. It was dark and their headlights lit up the night.

Inuyasha said, "No respect for the safety of others."

Oversized butts stuffed in tight low-rise jeans were cruising the strip on flashy Japanese sports bikes, showing off their chrome and thong. Young, arrogant riders. Five years ago I used to be one of them. They parked, took their helmets off, and one of the girls came my way. Yura. She was the shortest of the group, about five-six, two inches taller than me. Beautiful, with an ugly attitude. Very feminine and loved attention the way fish loved water. Pale skinned. No hips. All ass, black hair, D-cups inside a tight top. She stopped in front of me, jacket wide open, pimping her hard belly.

She showed me a smile. "Whassup Ducati?"

"I'm busy."

She laughed, then turned to Inuyasha. "Inuyasha."

"Yura."

"Think I just saw your wife at the mall."

"Yura, didn't Kagome just tell you were busy?"

Yura laughed and headed over to her crew, overdoing the side-to-side switching thing she did when she walked. She rocked an indigo-colored Honda Super Hawk. Custom paint job on both her bike and helmet. Chromed to the bone. She wanted attention, and attention she got. Her body was devastating. All the men paused, watched Yura and her posse as they walked inside the music store.

Inuyasha said, "How far along?"

My heart rose up in my throat. I said, "About six weeks."

"Still early."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it's still early."  
"You want me to send it down the toilet?"

"Don't tell me you want to have a baby." He rubbed his temples. "Do you?"

I opened and closed my hands. My nfingers hurting form studying guitar tablature on my Takamine most of the afternoon. I had been feeling good, had been in a songwriting mood. All of that good feeling gone.

Inuyasha asked me, "Who knows your pregnant?"

"Right now, nobody but us."

"Your roommate? Sango knows already?"

"She'll know eventually."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying what I'm saying, that's what I'm saying."

My lovers mouth was open, his eyebrows so close together that they had become a sideways exclamation point. I rubbed my hands over my jeans, adjusted my leather jacket, _DUCATI _labels on the sleeves and the same Italian name across the back. Inuyasha was dressed in baggy jeans and a grey sweater, black Nikes, and a black leather jacket.

He asked, "What are you going to do?"

_You're_ pregnant. What are _you _going to do?

My throat tightened.

His cellular chimed. I tried to see whose name of picture popped up, but he covered his phone with his hand, slid it across the table, hid it, and picked it up like he was picking up cards in a poker game.

I cleared my throat.

He made an exhausted face, sighed, and answered his phone with attitude.

"What? ... With Kagome… Starbucks…. talking… yes… came here to talk… no… I'll call you…'bye."

He snapped his phone closed.

Silent fell. Lines grew in his forehead. He was disturbed about something else now.

I asked, "Who was that?"

He rubbed his hands together, made an impatient face that told me to back off.

I hated when he did that mess, tried to control me. Hated when any man tried to control me.

A couple of men were at the table next to us. I recognized one of them. Koga. He was the exotic one who was a light-brown mixture of Latin, African American, and Japanese, the slender man with long black hair in a ponytail.

We made eye contact. I acknowledged Koga with a short smile. I actually smiled. I felt warm. In that split second I wished there were no Inuyasha in my life and no baby growing inside my body.

Inuyasha motioned towards Koga. "Why is his starign at you?

"You gonna tell me who was on the phone?"

"He better learn how to respect me."

Inuyasha looked at Koga and growled. Koga was unfazed, a stubborn man.

I said," That really wasn't necessary."

"What's up with you and that guy?"

"Nothing. I don't know him."

The conversation moved back to our situation.

He shook his head and said, "Pregnant."

"What are we going to do Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha was an electrical engineer. A thirty-year-old almost divorced electrical engineer. He is a handsome man with amber eyes and an easygoing way about him; His voice usually smooth and hypnotic.

Tonight thought he spoke in a stiff tone. "Kagome, I already have a daughter."

A chill ran over me. I knew what he was doing; building his argument. He was establishing a firm foundation; trying to turn and emotional moment into one of pure logic.

My troubled sperm donor ran his tongue over his teeth before he softened his tone and preached his woes. "My hands are tied. As soon as I walked out the house and initiated the divorce decree, she filed for child support. Now Kikyo gets an outrageous chunk of my income. It's really revenge money though. She has the house and when we were in court she wouldn't come down forty dollars on child support. Forty damn dollars."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I have two degree and I'm barley pulling down fifty thousand a year-"

I sighed, hoped he wouldn't remind of the whole story. "I know that too."

"She has the house that I bought with my money, the same money that helped her get her evil ass through law school, and I'm trapped in a damn one-bedroom cave that I can't even afford. I can't afford to stay there, and I can't afford to move anywhere else."

I ran my fingers through my hair, a wavy raven-colored mane that flowed down to my tail bone.

He went on, "And since I can't claim Kameko, my taxes are going up six-thousand. That's going to leave me under twelve grand a year to live on. I can't live on that; nobody can."

"Inuyasha-"

"Not when eight thousand of that goes to rent."

"Inuyasha-"

"You know my situation."

"I can afford to do this myself."

"Kagome… substitute teaching… bartending… you're barely working yourself."

"I can get a real job and do this."

"That's a joke. All of you fanatic women say that-"

"Fanatic?"

"-and soon as you realize that you can't do it alone. You realize it ain't easy, you come running and crying about how rough being a single mom is-"

"Don't go there."

"-how you thought you could do it alone, and even though you made the unilateral decision to have it, no matter how the man is against it, you exercise your own agenda, something you usually have from day one, and you drag us into court, stand up in front of the judge, and-"

"You're pissing me off. Don't you dare… if that's what Kikyo did; don't take it out on me."

"You're not working and I'm broke. Kagome, I'm just asking you to think."

"You think that I haven't been thinking since I found out?"

"I mean take a deep breath and think about the next eighteen to twenty-one years. Your mind's not on the cost of a baby-sitter, day care, insurance, medical bills, braces, summer camp, piano lessons-"

He stopped midrant and massaged his temples.

I said, "Chuck E. Cheese."

"What?"

"You left out Chuck E. Cheese. I hear that place can set you back a grip."

His expression requested seriousness and silence.

"Kagome, it's not just the money; it's the time too. My hands are already full. I barely have time to see you now. I don't have time to see my daughter as it is. You have a kid… I don't have any more time."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I can't be everywhere for every-damn-body all the damn time!"

"so you're not going to be there?"

"That's not what I said."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Kagome, we're dating and I don't have time to date. We have to see each other late at night, and I only get to see you once or twice a week. You know that I don't have time as it is. Between work, looking for work, going back to school and trying to get retrained, and my daughter… I don't have any time."

Silence settled between us. My misty eyes in one direction and his angry eyes in another.

I said, "I can go back to flying."

"Pregnant and dealing with terrorists?"

"Okay, maybe I could stop subbing and teach full time somewhere."

"You know that won't work."

I couldn't stand to look at him, so I looked around, struggling with my love for Inuyasha, trying to balance it with my self-love, my dignity. I was so damn afraid right now.

I told Inuyasha, "Well, I'm almost twenty-eight."

Inuyasha groaned. "The biological clock thing."

"All I'm saying is that maybe this is God's way of telling me that it's time to trade in my bike for an SUV and… and… and…"

"Get real Kagome. Being pregnant out of wedlock is not an act of god, it's a sin."

"So I'm a sinner who got pregnant out of wedlock. Anything else?"

"Right now I don't know what to think."

"You think I planned this? With your broke ass? With all your drama?"

"Get out of the fantasy and don't pretend money won't be an issue!"

"You done?"

"I'm just asking if you're prepared, because I know I'm not."

"Well if two people love each other-"

"Love doesn't pay the damn bills, Kagome! Love does not pay for private school and diapers!"

"You should know."

"What does that mean?"

"You're the one with the failed marriage; you're the one heading for divorce court."

That low blow put some serious pain in his eyes.

"Kagome… look… I don't mean to sound insensitive… today has been a motherfucker for me…but I have to be real… we have to be real… two people in love, two broke people in love will eventually be two broke people in hate. One night you're fucking and the next night becomes a war."

_Fucking._ He had said fucking. He didn't refer to what we had been doing as making lover, nor having sex. _Fucking_. He reduced our intimacy to its lowest, most barbaric terms. Don't get me wrong, fucking was good, and being barbaric was the best thing since the Internet; but there were sensitive time where fucking shouldn't be referred to as… as fucking.

I said, "What are you thinking?"

"Thinking how marrying Kikyo… how many damn bad decisions can I make in one fucking lifetime, you know?"

"You know what?' I lost it. "I'm tired of hearing you gripe about that bitch. I told I'm pregnant and all you can fucking talk about is that bitch this, that bitch that. Fuck that bitch!"

Hormones. My damn hormones were out of control. Left me feeling nuclear.

"Since you're so concerned about your budget, you should just get back with your ex."

He took a deep breath. "First off, I didn't know that you were going to drop a bomb on me. There were things that I wanted to talk to you about face-to-face."

A fist closed around my heart. It was never good when a man said he needed to talk to you.

"Kagome, you know I love you right?"

The winds shifted, changed directions.

"There is no pretty way out of this, not for anybody."

My eyes closed. "Inuyasha, just say it."

"And I'm doing it for my daughter."

"Say it!"

He took a deep breath, a real deep one, then let it out.

"Kagome, I wanted to meet you and tell you face-to-face that I was going back to my wife."


	2. We are family

Thank you for the positive feedback. Your opinions are greatly appreciated. Thank to_ kittykritik_ for suggesting I get a beta reader. I say I'm pretty good at grammar, but yes I am looking for a beta reader. So, any volunteers??

DRAMA. DRAMA. DRAMA.

**By the way, all characters are very OOC; especially Kagome. Also the abortion topic may be sensitive to some people but I will not reveal my opinion in the matter, it just goes with the story. So please no arguments on the topic.**

**Also some places and interstates are made up.**

**Keep in mind that this story is rated M for a reason. There will be sexual themes, moments, and language. Please keep that in mind.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha

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Chapter 2

We Are Family

* * *

"You're dumping me at Starbucks? At Starbucks? You're joking right?"

Pregnant, I sat there, cringing and stunned. My heartbeat strong and fast

"Look, Kagome, if I got back with Kikyo-for the sake of my daughter and for no other reason-the child support, court costs, the possibility of having to get to see my daughter every other weekend and every other holiday, having to call twenty-four hours in advance to see my daughter any other time, not being able to take her out of town on vacation without a damn court order, and not to mention that they're all sitting up in the house I bought eating steak while I'm practically eating dog food-"

He reached for my hand. I pulled my hand away.

"You still love Kikyo, don't you?"

"This isn't about love."

"You love her. After all the negative shit you said about her-"

"She's the mother of my daughter. I love my daughter."

"You're dumping me at a fucking Starbucks in front of all these… This is bullshit, Inuyasha."

My anger, my hurt, all of that was on my face. I ran my tongue across my teeth.

He cleared his throat and struggled. "You should think about, you know."

My eyes stayed on his face, but he couldn't return the favor. He couldn't bring those peepers up above my neck, couldn't gaze into these eyes that he claimed were so erotic and hypnotic.

I said, "You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"Do you love her?"

"I have to love my kid more than I despise my wife."

"A simple yes or no."

He closed his eyes like I didn't get it, shook his head like he was trying to wish away all his problems.

He finally opened his eyes, brought them up to mine, and was startled by what he saw.

"Kagome."

"Fuck you."

I reached in my jacket pocket and took out enough money to pay him back for my coffee. "I don't want a damn thing from you."

I threw that chump change on the table as I stood, most of it rolling off the table. He said my name again and I stopped moving. He stood up and came to me. He put his hand in my hair. The cold part of me heated up. I wanted him so bad I almost died.

He said, "Kagome, don't do this. Sit down. We need to discuss-"

"Discuss what?"

"We need some… some sort of compromise."

"How do you compromise something like this?"

I stepped away from his touched. He looked devastated, totally destroyed. I pulled me trembling lips inward, my face warm, and told my tears to kick back and hold on awhile, at least until I made it across the parking lot to my bike.

I showed him my traffic finger and said, "Enjoy that mental workout with your therapist."

So many times he said, "Kagome…"

I found enough of my strength in my reserve tank and moved away from the table, disoriented. I hurried in the wrong direction, and then was too ashamed to turn around, too pissed off to face him again. I bumped around people and went inside Starbucks, tried to vanish in the crowd. I couldn't hop on my bike and ride, not when I was messed up like this. I'd probably high-side and kill myself.

My vision clouded, and judgment so damn impaired.

The men who had been staring at every woman's ass stopped their conversation and whispered lustful words about the nice shape of the ass of a female that just sashayed in. The rude boys were whispering about me. Once again I had been seen as a collection of desirable body parts: ass they wanted to hold, thighs they wanted to drip honey over and lick away, breasts to massage, pussy that was ripe and waiting to be explored with fingers and tongue, nothing substantial, always reduced to my lowest terms.

The world remained a blur. All I made out was the dark blue in his jacket before I ran into him, causing him to drop his book, his newspaper, and juggle with his cup of coffee.

Koga. I'd embarrassed myself even more.

I said, "Did I mess up your suit?"

I expected him to look at me like I was Klutz of the Week.

He said, "Hold on, Kagome… think before you… look… okay… slow down."

He had a cellular phone on his hip, an earpiece in, and was talking into that Bluetooth thingy. He'd bent down to pick up the papers before they got wet. Legal papers. Real estate listings. Then he dropped the book. What a real awkward act we had going on here.

I quickly said, "Let me get your book for you."

While he got off the phone and wrestled with his coffee and papers, I pulled a strand of hair away from my face and squatted, I picked up the book. We made eye contact.

My cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was Inuyasha. He was right outside the door to the place he had picked to embarrass me, calling me like we were long-distance.

Inuyasha asked, "What's up with you all over him like that?"

I didn't answer.

Koga glanced towards Inuyasha, he saw him staring, and then he asked me, "Everything okay?"

"Look, sorry about the… sorry I bumped into you."

"Listen, when you have a minute I want to talk to you about something. It's business."

"Not interested."

I stormed away, bumped past all the latte lovers, and went inside the ladies' room.

_Kagome, I wanted to tell you face-to-face that I was going back to my wife._

Those words echoed.

With a wad of toilet paper in my hand and three potty liners separating the germs from my butt, I sat and waited for my bladder to do its thing.

A raspy female voice that owned and uppity flair came up outside the bathroom door, getting louder. Closer. She told somebody to go keep Daddy company, that she'd be right back as soon as she went to the bathroom.

The door. I hadn't locked the door.

I hopped up, my sweats huddled at my ankles, and tried to duckwalk as fast as I could, but I tripped. I had to push the wall to keep from going headfirst into the sink.

The door flew open. She stormed in like she was a bona fide superhero.

The art of speech abandoned me.

I tried to plop my butt back down so I wouldn't be standing there with my private parts on display. She froze, holding the door open. Her eyes were focused, very direct and intense. Mouth wide with big full lips. Her body well proportioned, neither top-heavy nor bottom-heavy. Not slim, but nowhere near fat. She was beautiful, with her thick hair in a ponytail. Her wardrobe was nice too. A midlength snakeskin jacket with cuffed, dark-hued denims and heels. Flawless makeup in earth tones.

The first and last time I saw that bitch was when Inuyasha and I were walking out of the movie theater. We walked out of a movie holding hands and laughing like two teenagers and stumbled right into the sunned face of his soon-to-be ex and their daughter.

That day I found out I was his secret; they hadn't known I existed until then.

That day, when Kikyo saw us holding hands and laughing, her eyes filled with jealous tears. Inuyasha had to stop and acknowledge his child, while both of us, Kikyo being his past and me his present, silently evaluated each other.

I snapped, "Close the door."

"He told you?" Her raspy voice was so powerful. "I just need to verify that what he told me is accurate and that you are aware that his fling with you is officially over."

"Close the fucking door bitch!"

"Good. He told you." She smirked. "So you understand your business with him is-"

"Close the damn door!"

"-over and there will be no need for you to call him or e-mail him. No need to send him text messages. And oh, I went through his cell phone, saw the topless pictures you-"

"Bitch. The door."

She straightened her clothing; let her eyes cut me up and down. "Sorry sweetie." She let her crooked smile roam all over my face, the tears, and my angst. "But that's what happens when you play with fire. It's over. Remember that, respect that."

"You're about to get your ass kicked."

"Touch me. Just one finger. Touch me and I'll have you locked up so fast it'll make your head spin. Please, after you've wiped your ass, come out here in front of the crowd and touch me."

She walked away without closing the door. I duckwalked over and slammed it behind her. I fumbled for my backpack, pulled out my cell, and jabbed in Inuyasha's number. Phone between my ears and neck, the moment he answered I flushed the toilet, struggled with my clothes, and asked, "You knew that bitch was coming up here? You had me up here with you and you knew that she was-"

He hung up.

I tried to freshen up, made myself presentable, and headed for the door. I punched in Inuyasha's number again. He answered and I snapped. "Don't hang up on me."

"Where are you?"

I was standing near the condiment station. His daughter was near him, a cute fifteen-year old girl with Bambi eyes. She looked so innocent. I couldn't imagine her being any kind of problem for anybody.

I answered, "Your daughter is pretty. Looks like you."

I said that so he would know I was in the room.

He paused and looked around then found me. Kikyo was in the crowd at the pick-up stand. The server called out an order and she picked up both cups. Inuyasha's daughter was clinging to his side. She saw me, looked at her daddy, towards her mother, then back at me. Somewhere along the line she lost her happy face. I wondered if her mother poisoned her with negative words about me.

I asked, "What is this one of your court-recommended trips?"

He moved away from his child. She followed him. When the kid wouldn't back away, he took out money and told her to buy a CD at the music store. She took the money, but before she left the building, she glanced at me and waved at me, soft and friendly. I waved back, wishing she was mines.

"Inuyasha, this is messed up. This is real messed up."

"Don't do this, Kagome. I got my daughter with me."

"And I have your son… or daughter inside me."

"Look dammit, think about it. Having a baby, Kagome, just be realistic. You should do it the right way. Be married first, have a partner, your finances right. That's all I'm saying."

"Respect me, Inuyasha."

"I respect you, Kagome."

"I tell you I'm pregnant and the first thing you do is tell me to kill it? That's respect?"

"Kagome, please don't do this."

"You're dumping me at Starbucks, this is respect? Why didn't you just send me an IM or a text message or an e-mail instead of meeting me up here?"

Kikyo walked through the crowd pissed off, her look stressed. Her message was loud and clear.

_We are family._

Kikyo saw me on my cell phone, and saw Inuyasha on his. Her fake smile fell.

Inuyasha said, "I love you, Kagome. No matter what, I love you."

"If you love me, don't let that chick bully you. Be a man and walk across the room-"

Click. That came from his end.

With a smile, Kikyo handed my sperm donor a cup, then looked back at me as she rubbed his shoulder. Put her fingers all over his leather jacket.

She touched him. He didn't cringe or shrug her away. So many years of familiarity.

This was some bullshit. This hurt. I gave him love, whatever he needed, whenever, and now this was my gift in return.

Kikyo glanced my way again. I didn't back down. I wasn't going to either. Inuyasha saw it all. So much tension and fear was in his face. Raging hormones sent me towards them.

_Touch me._ That daring look on was on her face. _Just one finger._

She was trying to set me up. She wanted me to bring it so she could put me on lockdown.

I wondered if I could do ninety days' of hard time. Or half a year. She just didn't know how close I was to grabbing a sharp object and rushing her ass. I was two seconds from an orange jumpsuit, a pair of silver handcuffs, and finding out how well the judicial system really worked.

But I was pregnant. I supposed that being in jail, pregnant, was not a great idea.

People were frowning. The room had picked up on the drama, and they were glaring, whispering.

I shied away from those people, backed away.

What I wanted was simple. All I wanted right now was to go home. I wanted to get out of this wretched place without passing by that bastard and the evil bitch. I did an about face and mumbled to myself while I paced out in the hallway. I stayed in the hallway like I was POW. When I finally came back out, they were gone, and had just vanished.

* * *

I yanked on my leather jacket, tugged on my gloves, left my helmet locked to my seat. I got on my bike, took up the kickstand, started my baby, and gave up some throttle. My bike revved hard and strong. Heads turned and I attracted attention that I didn't want. My Ducati was the sexiest thing on the road, bodacious yellow with power and sleek curves, carbon fiber, Termi exhaust that made her sound great when she revved up. She was a singer in a class of her own. Men stared at my baby with their mouths wide open, like they were seeing Halle Berry strut her Catwoman body across the lot butt-naked. Men headed my way, holding their crotches as if they were trying to hold down their erections, all wanting to touch my baby, but I put on my backpack and pulled away from the horny bastards without putting on my lid.

I felt like I didn't fit in this world.

Yes I was born in Japan, but I left when I was five. My father was in the military, stationed there at the time. My parents settled in California after my daddy retired from the United States Air Force. He loved to ride his Harley. He loved to ride me on his Harley. He was an all-American military man who insulted anybody that didn't buy American. Buying non-American was my rebellious act. He taught me all I know.

I was a teenager when he passed away. First he beat prostate cancer, survived lung cancer, and then had a heart attack a few years after he and my mother divorced. My mother was gone too. She became a serious rider after dad died; she did it because of her love for him. We were close, rode together a lot; we did that after Daddy died. I think Daddy's death made us closer. Her illness took us by surprise. She was diagnosed with liver cancer ten Aprils ago, died that June. I guess that made me an orphan. That's when I decided to move back to Japan.

This was one of those days I wanted to talk to them. Sometimes I could close my eyes and hear their voices in the wind.

They were gone.

A car came up behind me; it startled me away from my thoughts. It moved like it was trying to catch up; first its lights were flashing from high to low, then the horn was blowing. I would've sped away but the lot ended right after its strips of shops. I had pulled my helmet on before I touched the street. Even if Japan didn't have helmet laws, I'd never ride these streets without my lid. Too much road rage out there.

I pulled over in front of a post office. The car that was following me did the same.

I cursed and let out an irritated breath. It was Koga. He left his engine running, got out his car, and hurried towards me.

I was off my bike, setting my helmet down on the seat.

Koga was driving in a two-seater Porsche, jet-black with black interior, the top down.

I asked, "What's up?"

"What you mean?"

"You're following me. I mess your suit up and you're gonna stalk me?"

"I might have to take you to court and get compensated."

"I wish you would try and sue me. All you would get is practice."

He laughed. "I wanted to know if I could get you to teach me how to ride."

"I don't teach anymore."

"I mean, I want to hire you."

"Are you deaf or just plain stupid?"

"Private lessons."

"Don't go there."

"I'm serious. Straight business. I'll pay you whatever you ask."

I turned my back on him, put my lid on, flipped up the visor, and put on my chin strap. I had hoped that Koga would've taken a hint and walked away by then, got in his four-wheel chick magnet and be gone, but he was still there.

There should be law against a man looking that fine. His car was a chick magnet and he was defiantly a clit magnet. Good thing mine had been demagnetized.

"Chukin College. Call them up and take the rider class."

"That class is over two weekends."

"Not my problem."

"And two of the sessions are weeknights, and that doesn't fit my schedule right now."

"Not my problem."

"Look, help me out. I'm begging over here. Plus I already bought a bike."

"Checkbook rider."

"What?"

"You're a checkbook rider. You buy a bike before you can ride. Make sure you have your estate in order. On a motorcycle a fool with too much money ends up being a dead fool."

"I thought I could get someone to teach me."

He gave my eye contact. I sighed, watched traffic pass by.

I knew Inuyasha was gone, but my heart was still searching for him. I was shifting, I had taken off a glove and was slapping it against my thigh. I wanted to be by myself right now, so I did the club routine, did what we did to end an unwanted conversation, I told Koga, "Tell you what, give me your number."

He took out a card and handed it to me. "My cell phone is on the back. My home as well."

I stared at him.

He asked, "You have a card?"

"Not for you."

He nodded, but didn't move on.

I asked, "Why are you staring at me?"

"The only way you know I'm looking at you is if you're looking at me."

He chuckled. My face was still.

I tore his card in half and his laughter ended. We stared at each other for a moment.

He said, "I saw Inuyasha's wife. She was walking in when I was walking out."

I bit my bottom lip. "You saw?"

"Maybe we should talk."

"I don't want to talk to you, Koga."

"Kagome…"

"Are you deaf or stupid?"

With that, Koga headed towards his car. I wasn't in a man-friendly mood.

I got on my bike, revved my engine, but didn't go anywhere. Traffic went by while I sat on my thoughts. I looked down at my cell phone. Inuyasha hadn't called. A horn blew and I snapped back to life. Koga tooted his horn again, waved at me as he drove by with the rest of the traffic.

I didn't wave, not even a head nod.

Then it got worse. Yura and her girls rolled towards me before I could get out the parking lot, I heard their engines. I groaned. I pulled my visor most of the way down to hide my tears.

Most of them did The Wave, the cool move bikers did when they raised their hands to greet bikers going in the opposite direction. I gestured to all bikers, regardless if I liked them or not.

Yura hit her horn, then motioned for me to stop, pulled up the face guard on her helmet, her indigo-colored bike looking spectacular under the streetlights.

She said, "Kinda messed up, the way Pretty Boy left with his wife and kid ain't it?"

I stared her down.

She said, "Number two always wants to be number one."

"You should know."

She said, "Anytime you want to change teams and roll with me, holla."

"I don't swing that way."

"Be dual-purpose. Let me take you off-road. I won't tell anybody you left the main highway."

"You're sick."

"Or if you ever want to race, we can make it both our whiles."

"Is that right?"

"Race me. If I lose, you get my bike and my lid."

I manufactured a laugh. "You watch too many movies."

"I won two thousand last weekend. I raced this cat out at the track. He topped out at one-thirty-five. Pulled up next to him, downshifted, and left his ass in the wind."

"That was him. A straightaway isn't anything. Doing one-thirty-five is a joke."

"Let's take it to the track."

"You think you're a bona fide knee-slider now?"

"Meet me at the track."

Part of me wanted to take that challenge. I need a kick-ass victory right now.

I said, "Hypothetically. If I lose?"

"If you lose, I get you for a weekend."

I showed her my middle finger.

She laughed. "Don't offer me that finger if you ain't serious."

She revved her engine, sent me that challenge. She popped a wheelie and her crew did the same. I rolled on, left her young ass living in a challenge mode. Like a fool who had been threatened one too many times tonight, I popped a wheelie and showed her who the better rider was. I could ride her into the ground, even in angst.

I was a loner. Not one for joining. I didn't like a lot of people in my space. I did individual sports, never was a team player.

I took the madness on the interstate, sped south like I was on the world-renowned Ricardo Tormo Circuit in Valencia, Italy. I had to clear my mind.

I took to the carpool lane, rested on my gas tank, got down low, allowed my engine to smooth out, downshifted, and picked up my speed, moved so fast it felt like the wind was trying to tear my head off, zoomed toward the 605 at about a hundred miles per hour, felt the vibrations coming from both my seat and pegs as I headed for the freeway transition hard and fast.

I blew by eighteen-wheelers, SUVs, I felt like I was going so fast I could change the rotation of the world, make it go backward, make time reverse itself, and undo all that was wrong.

One-ten. One-fifteen.

I wanted to hit two hundred, spread my arms like wings, and fly like Superman. I increased my speed. I wanted to go back in time to the day I was shopping, the day I met Inuyasha. This time I'd ignore his smile. I wouldn't smile and blush and make sure I passed by him on every aisle. I wouldn't laugh and make small talk; I wouldn't take his card or give him my cell number. I wouldn't invite him to come to the Temple Bar that night.

One-twenty-five on the speedometer, down on my bike, aerodynamic.

I passed by cars like they were children on skateboards. When I came up on some slowpokes clogging up the carpool lane, I whipped lanes right to left to right. The transition curve was coming at me fast.

I thought about not braking at all, about rolling my clutch down and taking it to the max, seeing if I could get up to one-forty and wipe out, thought about dying and feeling no pain.

But I'd be killing more than just me.

But I think that was what I wanted. If I lost my baby in an accident, it would be different, I wouldn't have the same kind of guilt, I wouldn't think of myself as a murderer.

I got scared, I went into the curve too fast, came off the throttle, downshifted to kill some speed, gave some hand and foot brake, felt my front tire lock up, released that front brake so my tire could roll, then reapplied, pressed, and rolled with the curve, and it seemed like I was so low my left knee should've been sliding, scrapping the freeway, and screaming out my pain.

I straightened up, heartbeat so strong it made my leather jacket pulsate.

Time hadn't change. It was still now. I was still here.

I swallowed and looked down at my jeans. A hole was in the left knee. But there was no pain. Another eighth of an inch or so, I'd have been hobbled and eligible for handicapped parking. That was stupid and reckless. Next I'd be doing a hundred in a school zone.

Traffic was crawling, an accident up ahead. I zigzagged through traffic, then white-lined it awhile. Some jerk saw me-I know the Asshole did because I saw those eyes glaring at me in the rearview- and tried to swerve his four-wheel vehicle and cut me off. So many motorcycle haters on the road. Always trying to run us down. The hater was in a Mercedes, a car just like Inuyasha's wife. I kicked that damn Mercedes' door as hard as I could, left a generous dent, and rode off, that horn blasting behind me.

My middle finger shot up. Jerk. You just don't know. Don't mess with me and my hormones.

Screw you and every arrogant bitch that drives a damn vehicle with a Mercedes-Benz emblem.

I kicked up the rpm's and sped north, sliced through night air until I made it to the 10 west. My angst propelled me in one direction.

I rolled on my throttle and zoomed toward Inuyasha's apartment.

* * *

Wow, extra long chapter.

Oh I will be updating frequently, usually in a few days. I will NEVER take months to update a story. Next chapter will be up in the next 3 to 5 days!!

REVIEW!!


	3. Checkmate

Here is the next chapter.

**By the way, all characters are very OOC; especially Kagome. Also remember that Inuyasha does not live with his wife, he lives in his own apartment.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha

-------------------

Checkmate

* * *

Midnight.

I was parked behind a moving truck, half a block down from Inuyasha's apartment building, a two-story structure on the corner of the street.

It looked like the bedroom light in his ground-level dwelling was turned down low, just enough to create a lover's glow. That was the only light on.

Kikyo's Mercedes was behind Inuyasha's Toyota, bumpers touching, kissing like old lovers reunited. Even in jeans and my leather jacket I was cold. Riding that fast had me living in the land of hypothermia. Nose running, I shivered in the darkness, while sirens blared and cars zoomed by and helicopters flew overhead. I shivered until the lights inside his apartment went completely off.

An hour went by.

Kikyo didn't come out. She wasn't leaving. The lights were off and she wasn't leaving.

All that time a baby was crying in the distance. Crying and crying and wouldn't stop. A young mother's frustrated voice shrieked out, cursed God, begging for peace. That was when I laid both my hands on my belly. I imagined myself months from now, tired and evil because of lack of sleep. I closed my eyes for awhile, squeezed them so tight my head hurt. I thought about praying, but with all the drive-by shootings and holy wars and kidnappings and beheadings and homeless people and crack babies, and women being killed by husbands in the world, why should He take the time out from ignoring all the real needy people to listen to pregnant woman? Especially when I knew better. My hands had turned cold, my whole body on the road to becoming numb. I opened my eyes.

Inuyasha's lights were still off. That Benz still kissing his vehicle.

I took off my helmet, pulled off my gloves, left my gear on the seat of my ride, and let all the noise around me cover my footsteps, I tipped-toed towards Inuyasha's bedroom window. When the light changed, I heard him moaning.

He was a serious moaner. That made me shiver and burn all at once.

A night-light was right outside his bedroom in the hallway. I had put it there because I kept stumbling into things when I went to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. That subtle light was enough for me to make out shadows in his love nest.

Inuyasha was in bed, on his back. Kikyo's silhouette was in his lap, her shadow bobbing up and down in smooth rhythms, like she was so familiar with part of him, knew how to please him back into her world.

I covered my mouth, stumbled out of the shrubbery, and picked up a baseball-sized rock. First I wiped my eyes and frowned towards Inuyasha's bedroom window, then at his wife's Benz. I wanted to break her window, but a rock through Inuyasha's bedroom window would give me the best results. I held it, pulled my arm back, but couldn't bring myself to throw the damn thing.

I had to be smarter than that. Had to play it the way Kikyo played it.

I ran up three stairs, past the small courtyard, stormed to the front door, and rang the doorbell. Then I knocked. Then I rang the doorbell. Then I knocked. Then I rang.

Lights came on inside. The floor creaked as heavy feet tipped toward the door. I stepped back so he could see who it was. Then the peephole went dark, then light again.

Inuyasha said, "Kagome?"

"Open the door. I need to see your wife for a second."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"Tell the bitch to wipe the come off her face and come here."

It got quiet. Then a raspy voice came from behind him. Then there were mumbles behind the door. I looked across the courtyard. Neighbors-both upstairs and facing this unit-peeped out their windows. I don't know if they were scowling at the helicopter that was hovering in search of criminals, or waiting to see if a crime of passion was about to be committed down here.

"I'm not leaving, Inuyasha."

Silence. So silent I could hear my hormones catching fire, smoke rising from my flesh.

I said, "I can either ring and knock and wake up the rest of your neighbors and act a fool until the police come, or you can open the door and we can handle this like… like… _Boy, open the damn door_!"

I knocked. I knocked. I knocked.

Behind me the neighbors' lights came on one by one.

Inuyasha opened the door.

I didn't know what to expect, I thought that they might drag me in and start kicking my ass. Inuyasha had on jeans, no underwear; his thick imprint told me that.

He opened the door. "Let's do this."

"Yeah. Let's do this."

Kikyo came up behind him, her hair muddled as she stood in the shadows with Inuyasha's black housecoat on. The same housecoat I wore last week. She left it wide open, letting me see her breasts, her vagina, her thighs, modeling all of what she was giving him as a consolation prize.

She was beautiful, she knew that. She was determined, I knew that.

Sweat stained my clothes and the moisture that had been on my skin had dried, left patches of salt on my face. Lips were dry and my nose was running and I was breathing hard, stress coming out my nostrils in flames, and my hair looked wild, disorganized, hanging any way it wanted to hang.

I smelled them, inhaled the scent of interrupted passion.

She smirked, shook her head like she wondered what Inuyasha could possibly see in me, we both stood there, indecisive, my anger rising because of the way she had disrespected me at Starbucks. She looked like she wanted to challenge me, battle me.

Her eyes cut me up and down. She said, "Pitiful."

The fist of jealousy clutched my heart again.

My voice was low and intense. I said, "I'm pregnant."

Kikyo's face crashed to the floor.

She struggled, finally found her voice, winced. "Inuyasha?"

He groaned and closed his eyes.

With more force she repeated. "Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha snapped at me. "Kagome, it's fucked up the way you're handling this."

"Fucked up?" I went off. "You're going on and on about how you hate your ex and how you're being raped in family court and you can't make ends meet and then you never once talked about what I wanted to do and the first thing you do when I tell you I'm pregnant is just throw up abortion in my face, then blow me off like I'm some bitch, and what I'm doing is fucked up? If you handled your crap the right way, then I wouldn't be out here in the freaking cold tipping around like a damn lunatic and watching your ex that you hate so much wipe your damn come off her lips, that's what fucked up Inuyasha!"

Then I was crying. I wasn't hysterical, but angry tears started flowing. Kikyo's expression became volatile. She hated me. I hated her. She wanted to kill me. I wished she would try.

I said, "Yeah, I'm pitiful. And dollar for a donut, your conniving ass is pitiful too."

Inuyasha lowered his head, banged it against the door. He stood there, between two women, one inside his apartment, on standing out in the cold, banging his head against the door.

Kikyo asked, "Did you know this…?"

Inuyasha kept banging his head. "She. Told. Me. This. Evening."

My name was unimportant, I was _She_. A pronoun. Not Kagome. Just _She_.

Kikyo talked around me like I wasn't important at all. "After you told her that we-"

"Before. She. Told. me. Before."

"Is there…are you sure…could…is it yours?"

He snapped, "Back off, Kikyo!"

"Dammit, I want to know if your little whore… if you think-"

Before she could finish, Inuyasha had stormed to her, grabbed her arm so hard it scared me.

Again he barked, "Back off Kikyo."

He snapped out his words like he was tired of her shit. No, not tired; exhausted with her shit.

Kikyo yanked free, rubbed her arm, and looked embarrassed for a moment, eyes down as she struggled to close her housecoat. She couldn't get the housecoat to stay closed and she gave up, frustrated that she couldn't control that either, she ran both hands through her messed up hair and tugged like she was ready to explode, took a hard breath, lowered her head, shaking it the whole while, headed down the narrow hallway toward Inuyasha's small bedroom, back to lounge in all the love stains I had left behind.

Checkmate. Check-fucking-mate.

The bedroom door slammed, but he doors were cheap. They wouldn't close that easily. She had to slam it six or seven times to get it to lock, each slam sounding like the echo of a gunshot.

She had put herself on the other side of a door. I was still out in the cold. Inuyasha was frozen, head against the wall, a statue in mourning position.

Inuyasha barked, "Don't corner me, Kagome."

I snapped, "Don't disrespect me. I tell you I'm pregnant and you run off with that…that?"

"The shit you're doing now, if I didn't feel what I feel for you, they'd be pulling your fucking head out of that goddamn wall. Don't you ever bring your ass over here acting like a goddamn fool again!"

"You have her in there on the damn mattress I paid for."

"I'll get you your motherfucking mattress."

"Don't you talk to me like that, Inuyasha."

"I'll get you whatever I owe you. Now get out. Get the fuck out."

He came toward me, his hands in fist. I wanted to run, but stood my ground.

I said, "Tell her I said she can go back to sucking your dick now."

He looked at me; that frown told me that the rage he felt for Kikyo, he felt the same for me.

I turned around, running away from the madness. Neighbors were in most of the windows, a couple holding phones in hands, like they were reporting the drama to people all over the world. I kept my head up high, went down the stairs toward the nonstop noise and traffic on the street, and faced the rows of apartment buildings the led into a mixture of streetlights and darkness.

Inuyasha's car was still kissing Kikyo's car.

I headed towards Kikyo's sweet ride. Stood at the passenger-side door. Foot tense. I was about to kick a few dents in her ride. Kick I was kicking her in the butt.

But that never-ending wail went up an octave, snagged my attention. That baby was still crying in the distance, driving its momma crazy.

I stuck my riding gloves in my back pocket, zipped my jacket up as fast as I could, got my helmet on, and started up my bike. I saw Kikyo in that window staring at me. Flipped her ass off. I felt like going Mad Max, so I did. I got in the middle of the street and did a circular burnout, rocked my bike 360 degrees with the front wheel locked, and then crossed the circle with a straight rubber mark when I was done. I put the hammer down and zoomed out of my smoke, rode my bike hard, roared up the street at a grueling pace.

That was my message for Kikyo.

* * *

A little shorter but review!!


	4. Broken Glass

Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**All characters are very OOC; especially Kagome. **

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha

-----------------

Broken Glass

* * *

Almost one in the morning.

A naked man was in the kitchen.

I rented part of a three-level home.

A naked black man who was well endowed was in the kitchen.

The house was at the bottom of the hill facing a small park. I always came down hill and shut off my engine before I made it to the house, always shifted to neutral and coasted by the king and queen palm trees and into the garage, parked next a F650, my roommate's BMW motorcycle. She had a car, needed that in case we had to make food runs or take clothes to the dry cleaner's, couldn't run real errands on a bike, but she left her four-wheel cage out on the streets, only garaged her F650.

The basement was a game room, still the same way her ex-husband had left it. Big pool table and a Ms. Pac-Man machine met you as soon as the garage door opened, one of the other rooms had a home gym and free weights, and another was a media room with a gigantic plasma television anchored on the back wall. She also had a laundry room the size of a friggin' Laundromat.

I always dumped my backpack, helmet, gloves, and leather jacket on the pool table, kicked my shoes off, and headed up the stairs.

I climbed the stairs in a darkness that couldn't touch my mood. As soon as I made it to the main level, he was standing there in the kitchen, wearing nothing but dark skin and a goatee.

The naked black man jumped when he saw me. His super-sized penis did the same.

My body was frozen, ready to run or fight, but my eyes were between his legs, watching his penis bob and weave, staring at it the way a victim watches a robber's gun.

I said, "Uh. Hello."

He said, "Hey."

He didn't cover himself. My eyes eased up, moved across his firm stomach, and finally made it to his face. Handsome. Brown skin. Built like a professional running back. Strong legs. Hairy chest.

I closed my mouth, swallowed, and said, "You are…"

"Jason."

"No, naked. You're…"

"Oh came to get some water."

"You are…?"

"A friend of Thelma Mae. She said it was okay-"

"Who is Thelma Mae?"

"Nice… chest… Chinese… Thelma Mae."

"She's Korean, not Chinese."

"You sure?"

He didn't notice the magazines that were on the island. _KoreAm Journal. The Korean American Experience_ in bold letters across the top of each one.

"Korean. And her name is Sango."

"Damn. I've been calling her Thelma Mae all evening."

"Sango is… where?"

"In her bed."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Barnes and Nobles."

"Sci-Fi section?"

"Yeah."

"You must read Issac Asimov."

"Some."

Philip K. Dick?"

"Yeah. How did you…?

"Cool. Asimov is tight, but she loves her some Dick."

"Yeah. He-"

"Which one of the Big Five you ride?"

"Huh?"

"Harley, Honda, Saki, Zook, Yam … what kind of bike you got?"

"Yamaha."

"Yam."

"Yeah. Got a Yam. How did you know I had a-"

"Displacement?"

"Huh?"

"Damn. What size is your freaking engine?"

"Six hundred."

"Geesh. You must be another checkbook rider."

"Huh?"

"You ain't been riding long, have you?"

"About a month. I still have my learner's permit. No freeway."

"Be careful. I had to kick another door, this one on the freeway."

"Huh?"

"A lot of haters on the road."

"You kicked somebody's door?"

"Every chance I get."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I get tired of people messing with me, that's why."

My sudden rage jarred him. It was my hormones. Felt that change, the fire inside me.

He backed away. "Nice to meet you… uh… uh…"

"Kagome."

"Nice to meet you, Kagome."

Jason hurried down the hallway, his big feet sticking to the marble floor, and then went up the stairs, rushing back to the master bedroom, his weight making the hardwood floor creak. That meant he weighed at least one-ninety. Took that much weight to make the floor sing.

I hardly ever went upstairs. There were two bathrooms and two more bedrooms up there. My bedroom was on this level, right off the living room. I had my private little world down here and Sango had hers up there in the heavens.

I grabbed bottled water from the pantry, opened the French doors, and went out on the patio.

"Kagome."

"What's up, Sango?"

She was halfway down the stairs when she called my name. The stairs didn't give her away. Never did. My scandalous and hedonistic roommate only weighed about a buck twenty, if that.

She yawned. "I thought you were spending the night with Inuyasha."

I said, "I thought you were with Miroku."

"Could you talk a little bit louder? People in Australia couldn't hear you."

Sango was coming out behind me, walking like she had a pretty barbaric horizontal workout. She came over and leaned on the rail. Her golden skin had a decent glow, made her look sweet sixteen.

Sango was almost twenty-seven, all of five-six, long black hair in braids, arched eyebrows over tight eyes, thick eyelashes, full lips, skin so tanned she looked like her last name should be Brown. Perfect D-cups with a twenty-four-inch waist. Her toned body, plus her attitude, all of that made her seem more perfect. She had a high waistline, narrow hips, breast to die for, and thanks to playing semi-pro beach volleyball she had killer legs.

Her mother married a black man when she was six; Sango had a teenage sister from that union, so they'd been integrated into a brand-new Nubian world.

I said, "You smell like sex."

"No, I smell like great sex."

"Don't ask me why I look like crap."

"What did Inuyasha do?"

Sango had on a short housecoat, no shoes. Her nails were red with green designs. Her toenails and fingernails were attention-getting, always works of art. She smelled erotic, like sweat and lavender mixed with a man's cologne, those scents and hints of drying semen.

I said, "Dude upstairs, he thought your name was Thelma Mae."

She laughed. "That's because I told him my name was Thelma Mae."

"And he thought you were Chinese."

"Why is Korean so hard to remember? They remember all the _ese. _Chin_ese_. Japan_ese_, Vietnam_ese_."

I laughed. That was the one thing that pissed her off.

I said, "When you have breasts like that, I don't think they care what you are."

"Don't hate."

I lowered my voice. "Is your patio door open?"

She leaned, craned her head so she could look up toward her suite, then shrugged and whispered back, "Don't think so. If it is, so what? I'm Korean dammit. I don't look Chinese."

"You don't look engaged either, but you are."

"Shhh." She bumped me. "I'm not engaged dammit."

"Not yet, but the way Miroku acts, you will be soon."

"Could you say that a little bit louder?"

"Miroku is crazy about you."

"So is Daniel."

I whispered again. "His name is Jason."

"Jason? You sure?"

"Hell if I know. All I know is he told me his name was Jason."

"Oh, boy. I've been calling him Daniel."

"Match made in heaven."

She yawned. "I gave him my club name."

"Sounds like he gave you his too."

She bumped me and snapped, "Asshole."

"Don't asshole me."

"Shit, Daddy Long Stroke tried to asshole me."

"You let him go Greek?"

"He's too… gifted. Told him I only speak one language. No Greek, no French."

"I saw what you were working with. I thought he was about to go pole-vaulting."

She asked, "What's up with Inuyasha?"

I pursed my lips. "He's a bastard and his wife's a bitch."

"What happened?"

I thought about venting to her about my jacked-up evening, but I wasn't looking for company or long conversations. I didn't know which way this would go, so I wasn't ready to talk about my mistakes.

I asked, "What happened to Miroku? I thought you two were getting serious."

"Still seeing him. He wants to take me to Tokyo. As a matter of fact, he was with me at Barnes and Noble, took me to dinner before, then he had to leave. All of a sudden he had to go get his son."

"Baby momma drama?"

"She was blowing up his phone. God, why do I date men with children? Why? Why? Why?"

I laughed. "Another research night?"

"Yeah. Still trying to write this damn novel. I think I'm going to call it _Comfort Women."_

"You start so many novels. Which one is that?"

"Korean woman … forced to be sex slaves for the Japanese military during World War II."

"You've been working on that as long as I've known you, for at least five years."

"More like six. If only I can get past chapter three."

"Uh-huh."

"I was at the bookstore, took a break, was sitting on the floor reading _I, Robot _for the umpteenth time, looked up and saw this Adonis walking down the aisle. I'm talking two seconds after Miroku walked out, and this boy who looked like Will Smith walked in, leather jacket, biker helmet in hand."

"You should get that eye surgery. If you think he looks like Will Smith, you're damn near blind."

She shrugged. "Whatever."

I said, "So, Miroku walks out of the bookstore and…"

"And Daddy Long Stroke walks in." She smiled. "There is a God and she _loves_ me."

"Playa play on. Somebody playing the field big-time."

"Nice guy, Miroku is real nice, but he can't satisfy me."

"Uh-huh. Took you two years to come to that conclusion?"

"I had hopes."

"Don't we all."

"He has the smallest penis I have ever seen, and that ain't no joke."

"Smallest?"

"Maybe not the _smallest_. But damn."

"What's your definition of small?"

"Under six. Six to seven is average. Seven to eight, large. Over eight, huge."

"Damn. Miroku is what, six-two, about two hundred pounds."

"Six-four. About two-twenty."

"You're killing the myth. Don't make me cry."

"Miroku has huge hands. He makes me come like crazy with his hands. I love his hands. If he didn't have hands, I'd leave him. If we were married, I'd divorce him and take one of his hands."

I chuckled. "His hands have you sprung."

"But I need more than a hand." She motioned upstairs. "This guy Daniel-"

"Jason."

"I was moaning out _Daniel_ the whole damn time."

"Doubt if he cared, _Thelma Mae_."

"Daniel is good. He inspired me. One minute we were talking Asimov. Then we were talking about a short story by Tevis. You know that one?"

"Read it when I was fifteen."

"One of my favorites. How often do you meet someone who reads Tevis?"

"Long story short. So you were talking Tevis."

"Next thing I knew, I was… was wet. Was in that mood. It was strange. One minute Asimov, the next Tevis, then Heinlein… we started kissing… and kissing… and kissing… the guy can kiss like… like… then… he had me on the pool table and was eating me out. Intense."

"Wait. On the pool table eating you out? I think you left out a few steps."

"You said long story short."

"Not that short."

"Okay we were talking about Heinlein's 'I am God, you are God' theme, how it's essentially Heinlein's means of emphasizing the personal responsibility of each-"

"Sango."

She moved her braids from her face. "You just want to hear the freaky parts, huh?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, we went from talking about 'I am God' to me screaming 'Oh God Oh God Oh God.' " She chuckled at her own joke. "I was planning on just being his Pillow Queen, lick me to heaven, and then send him home. But it got out of control. He out it down like crazy. The next thing I knew, I was giving Jason the best head he's ever had."

"How do you know it was the best head he's ever had?"

"Hmm. I don't know. Maybe it was just the best head I ever gave. He drinks plenty of liquids and lays off the sodas. He drinks a lot of fruit juices, I can tell. Fruit juices are the best. I turned him out."

"Yeah, it's the best if they don't drink sodas. Fruit juices are the best."

"My gag reflex has gotten so much better."

"Too much information."

"Probably almost as good as you claim yours is."

"Sango!"

"Hand sex." She chuckled. "Russian. The love Russian."

"Don't forget Greek. They all want to go Greek."

"Why do straight men love Greek? Then there was this guy who wanted to use his nose."

That got a raised eyebrow from me. "His nose?"

"His nose was huge. Like a penis with nostrils. Strangest orgasm I ever had." She laughed and shook her head. "After that he wanted to give me a facial. God, I'm always in weird relationships."

"You're always having weird sex."

"I'm always having great sex. If I die, remember to burn my journals before my mother gets here. She'd have a stroke before she made it to page two. Hell, a pearl necklace is on page one."

"That's the mess you should put in a book. You could become the Asian Zane."

"Asian Zane. I like the way that sounds. A wonderful alliteration."

"Actually, it's more like a consonance than alliteration. Repetition of the 'z' sound in both words, that makes it consonant."

"Bitch. Always correcting me."

"Your tight-eyed cousins mess up the curve all across the nation and I'm a bitch?"

She mocked me. "Here we go with the stereotypical racist shit again."

"Learn to take a joke the way you take a dick."

She laughed. "You need to quit. Your Japanese ass."

"I'm not full Japanese."

"Where were you born?" She laughed. "You were made in Japan. That makes you Japanese."

"Whatever."

Sango said, "My problem is this…"

"Uh-huh."

"Miroku… take away the kid, lose the baby momma, and he's perfect. Fine as hell. Wants to commit. We have a great relationship. A great communicator; open; very loving. He's intelligent and has great presence. We both talked about how we loved the fact that we can take each other anyplace."

"I'm listening."

"And my being Korean…"

"Uh-huh."

"At some point that always becomes an issue. Always. Like I become some sort of exotic toy."

I asked, "If Miroku's such a great package… if he isn't making you a trophy… what's the problem."

"I'd rather be single and lonely, than married and miserable."

"Why you so hard on marriage, Sango?"

"Because I've been married, Kagome. I'm not obligated to be that stupid ever again."

I laughed at her crazy behind.

She sighed." Hell, I slept with my ex more after we divorced than I did when we were married. We had sex more in a month than we did in two years of marriage."

"Damn. You made love much?"

"Oh, please. We didn't make love. We fucked."

"I stand corrected."

"Hotels. Parks. Malls. Did it damn near everywhere. The best breakup sex I ever had."

"Only divorce you've ever had."

"Only takes one to change your view of the world."

"Again I stand corrected."

"If he'd hooked me up like that when we were married, we might've still been married."

"How did he treat you after the divorce?"

"Same way I treated him." She smiled. "Like a damn whore."

"Nice."

"Very nice. He tried to fuck me senseless, thinking I would come back to his ass."

"Didn't work."

"Oh, please. He loved me in private, but in public my being Korean, it became a problem."

"Why did you keep sleeping with him?"

"I loved him."

"Uh-huh. Love. That sweet addiction."

"Outside of the emotional and legal drama, we got off easy. Glad we didn't have kids."

I asked, "Think divorcing would've been harder if you had kids?"

"Don't know. And don't wanna know. All I know is that for more reasons than one, I'm glad me and my ex didn't have kids. As a matter of fact, let me amend my earlier statement. Yeah, I'd rather be single and lonely than both married and miserable or divorced with a freaking snotty-nosed kid and both of us miserable."

I said, "So, I take that to mean you're passing on Miroku too."

"Damn. Forgot I had somebody upstairs."

"Jason, in case the name slips your mind."

"Daniel. Jason. Whatever."

"Condoms?"

"Never ride bareback. Inuyasha coming over? You need some?"

"I'm cool." I almost told her. Couldn't. I asked, "Why do you mess around on Miroku?"

"Something is wrong with me. Sometimes I feel like I need to have sex with a good-looking, intelligent man who won't tell me his problems or ask me to cook freaking breakfast."

"What's wrong with cooking breakfast?"

"Quit playing."

"Okay,okay."

"Sometimes it's too much. Stay involved too long… people want so much from each other. Sometimes it's nice to be with somebody who can't want anything more than you're willing to give."

"Is that what Miroku's doing? Getting too deep? Becoming a bugaboo?"

She growled, touched her braids, shook her head. "What's you take on the love thing?"

"It is what it is and that's all it is."

"Just another addiction." She tapped her veins. "You just have to get rid of the addiction."

I sighed. "Falling in love is like falling off a building-it doesn't hurt till the end."

"You finally said something that makes sense."

"Oh, kiss my ass, Thelma Mae."

She said, "Love is like magic. Magic is an illusion. Therefore love is an illusion."

"Bitter, bitter, bitter."

"Not bitter. Marriage and divorce were my red pills. My eyes are wide open now."

"Are they? Hard to tell."

"Forget you. Don't start with those tight-eyed jokes."

"Bitter and paranoid, Thelma Mae. You are bitter and paranoid."

"And you're Japanese."

"Keep it up. Get slapped."

She rocked, stared at her beautiful fingernails, did all she could to delay going back to the man lounging in her den of pleasure. Guilty. She was feeling guilty. It showed in her terse smile. I understood her. I owned the same type of smile, only for a different reason.

She asked, "So, what's up? You skipped working at the Temple Bar to be with Inuyasha?"

"Don't you have a butt-naked stranger waiting on you upstairs?"

"You can smile, Kagome, but your eyes don't lie. It's bad. What happened with Inuyasha?"

I did want to vent, started to tell her then, that I was pregnant, that Inuyasha's words were rattling around in my head, that I was trying to think of what to do, how I could make it through this all by myself. But I didn't. She was my friend, I loved her scandalous butt, but she wasn't the one to talk to about this.

I shrugged and avoided the subject. "I'll screen your calls."

"If you need to talk, I'm only fourteen stairs and a short hallway away."

"Thanks."

"But don't knock too soon."

She headed back into the house.

I was alone.

I fell into a trance gazed down at the backyard, at the gazebo, the Jacuzzi, the trees, at the marigolds in the bonsai orange and Antigua yellows, at the red and sun-colored celosias, at all the dianthus.

The flowers, the moon, the stars, no matter what I looked at I saw Inuyasha.

I saw us swimming in the pool. I saw us naked, in that darkness, making love in the backyard, and the moon over our heads like a big flashlight. I heard us laughing and talking when we were done.

I heard him telling me he couldn't do this. I closed my eyes to make him go away, but he wouldn't. They wouldn't.

I saw Kikyo on her knees, her face in Inuyasha's lap, bobbing up and down, same thing I was doing this time last week. I saw them. Only this time I was in the room with them. Inuyasha had his hands on the back of her head, stabbing her throat with his hardness. He looked at me, said, _Kagome, just think about it. Be married first. Have a partner. Finances right. Have a plan. That's all I'm saying_.

Kikyo stopped savoring his jism long enough to wipe her mouth, masturbated him as she frowned at me. She snapped, _Close the fucking door, bitch!_

I jerked out of that self-imposed nightmare, shivered, felt so damn cold.

A few minutes later sweet moans were floating over my head, seeping through the bedroom window and the doors. His baritone moans were abrupt and strong, tangled up with her keen howls and catlike wails. I listened. She moaned for Daniel. I listened. He moaned for Thelma Mae.

He had out it on her good. She'd already given up on being a Pillow Queen.

I shook my head in disgust and amazement. But I listened to them, both chanting like Tibetan Buddhists, imagined them savoring each other, creating their own hydrogen fusion.

She barely knew his name and he couldn't care less about hers, yet they were comfortable enough to hump each other and she felt safe enough to let him wander naked through her home.

I couldn't judge her on that one. I'd done that so many times in my lifetime.

Live like a woman and date like a man. The only way to stay sane. God bless equal rights. We truly lived in fucked-up times.

I went to my bedroom. Locked my door. I stared at the picture of me and Inuyasha that sat on my dresser, positioned in the center of my other pictures, photos of me and my parents, as if Inuyasha were the sun that my fractured world rotated around.

_I wanted to meet you face-to-face that I was going back to my wife. _

I wanted to rip my ears off. Dig inside my brain and remove some of my memory. Right now I needed a cool bottle or a warm shoulder, some sort of comfort. I wanted to sleep in my makeup and skip brushing my teeth, do all the wretched things lovers do when it's over.

I wanted to get on my bike and ride away from the sunrise, live in the dark as long as I could.

I stripped down. Showered. Put my head under the water, wet my hair, and cried. They all added up. For one it was six months. For another it might be three years. For another a weekend or two. But they all added up

They all added up to time spent on relationships that didn't work. Time I wished I owned again. But time wasn't ownable. And days spent on useless relationships were irreversible.

Age crept in and the slim pickings became even slimmer.

Without drying off, soap trailing down my skin, water running from my hair and making a river across my face and back, I stared at myself in the full-length mirror on my closet door.

Rubbed my hands over me stomach. I imagined being nine months pregnant and alone.

In the middle of the night my phone rang. It didn't wake me because I was still pacing. Hating. Up thinking about the simple art of murder.

Inuyasha's number was on my caller ID. His name lit up my phone and it felt like I was parasailing.

I answered. "Inuyasha?"

"This is his wife."

The world stopped rotating. Felt like a knife had been jabbed in my throat.

I lost it, went ballistic. "How did you get my number?"

She didn't have to answer. I knew. She was on Inuyasha's phone.

She asked, "Are you with child?"

I growled, stared at my phone like I knew she didn't have the nerve to call me.

The she said, "Pregnant. That's the oldest trick in the book."

I cursed her out, told her, "don't ever dial this number again."

I hung up. Sat on the bed staring at the wall. Then I turned on the light, went to the bathroom.

As soon as I sat on the toilet, there was a crash, followed by loud music. Then the sound of a racing engine, a vehicle burning rubber on the pavement.

I jumped up and ran back into my bedroom. The window facing the streets was shattered. Broken glass was everywhere. A red brick was on my bed, the same spot I should've been sleeping on.

Someone had thrown a fucking brick through my bedroom window.

Taillights were speeding away; saw that through the shattered window.

That bitch did this.

I ran to the front door, yanked it open, and cursed out at the vanishing SUV.

* * *

So to clear up some things, Kagome was born in Japan but she lived in California for most of her life. So she doesn't really consider herself Japanese.

Jason is black. He does not live in Japan, he is from America. So he is on vacation technically.

REVIEW PLEASE!!!


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